Brian Johnston Poems

If you think that the Bible's literally true
You may be in danger of Hell fire,
And I'm not even saying I know Hell exists,
Though the Bible sure talks of God's ire.
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‘So why are the turtles crossing the road?
My sister asked wonderingly
As each turtle would come into view.
No guarantee, but sometimes we'd see them
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A first internet date with a stranger,
Proved to be a flirtation with danger,
Said the girl to her shrink,
As her hand stroked her mink,
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TO CHECK OUT MY CONTEST.... Just go to my site, do a list of all my 'Poems' and then alphabetise them by title. All 'Poems' that are relevant to my contest will have the word 'A C T C' standing for 'A Challenge Title Contest' as the first letters in their title. It should be easy then for you to read these 'Poems' and figure out what is going on.

The Oct contest on my site is now over and the winner will be chosen democratically (on Nov 12 with results announced) Although not perfect, I admit, it does have some wonderful implications. If all entries were just judged by me, a competitor in the contest who loses could just think I am prejudiced in some way or stupid or even both. But here you are voted on by your peers, and peers are asked to explain their own thinking! ! ! They don't know you so that kind of prejudice is almost eliminated which is wonderful and you may not like the way that they think but their honesty (if they are) gives you truly valuable information that you don't normally get from others, that could actually help improve YOUR POETRY. You may win or lose but you still learn, i.e., EVERYONE IS A WINNER!
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- - - Chapter 1: Early Days - - -

My father was a rich man, la, *
Though schooled in poverty, (1)
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She played the harp, I fell in love,
It was easy don't you see?
I was only six or seven,
She was youngish, twenty three.
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Amidst storm flood and sun fire,
Alone among his own kind
Steeped in self-invented Hell,
And far from heaven,
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Sweet morning child
With eyes left sad
By twilight's dew
Rejoice at your youth
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The cities now razed and man's dreams carrion,
Our country, theirs, stench egalitarian,
In processing bodies, oh, just what was gained,
Victory is where, now the battle has waned?
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